


Bury all your secrets in my skin

by minoshat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minoshat/pseuds/minoshat
Summary: “I hate you!”“No, you don’t.”“You don’t have a fucking right to tell me…”“Hate me, like you mean it Draco. Hate me…”





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Blue October song "Hate me"

 

 

 

_Hate me today_  
_Hate me tomorrow_  
_Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you_

_Hate me in ways_  
_Yeah, ways hard to swallow_  
_Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

And he was standing there. Casually sipping his alcohol-free drink and with boyish charm making conversation with most important wizards around the world.

Draco took another deep breath and blinked hard. Maybe it’s just a dream. How can he be here? How can he…

One, two, three…

Potter chose this exact moment to catch him staring. He looked surprised, or at least that what Draco thought he saw on his face, but in second Potter’s face change to that poster-boy official polite smile. Then he turned away not even slightly affected by Draco’s presence.

THE HELL?

Forty-four…

Fuck - counting, years of therapy and all the checks his therapist stole from him. It’s not working.

It never would. Not with Har…Potter.

Draco took in how fit and healthy he looked. Way better than the almost corpse he left behind all those years before. He looked good. He looked too good without Draco in his life.

It’s not like cares.

Because he moved on long ago.

Still It hurts.

Draco could easily identify the growing pain in his chest. Pain with the roots in his heart that never truly went away, but was silent in the past year. Right when he finally was starting to build up his life, Potter needed to come back just to show him how wrong he was. How his mere presence made him come back to that teenage broken boy. Boy who loved him. Boy he was no longer certain was  gone.

He heard Potter’s laugh at some stupid ministry joke.

How could he come back?

How could he ignore him like that?

How he got better?

Is he with someb…

Hell with this. Draco turned on his heels. He was done here. Charity, no charity, he couldn’t spend another second being so close to Ha-Potter. He rubbed on his wrist as he came to feel familiar scar.

 

 

_“I hate you!”_

_“No, you don’t.”_

_“You don’t have a fucking right to tell me…”_

_“Hate me, like you mean it Draco. Hate me…”_

 

 

 

With the last memory surfacing in his mind he Disapparated from the event. He completely missed green eyes burning with emotions.

 

***

He didn’t really know where to go. He didn’t want to come back to his empty flat nor going back to the Manor, mother would never let it go. She still couldn’t forgive herself for pushing him into Potter’s arms and convincing him time and time again that it will get better. With cracked smile Draco chose to sit at the bench near the river. Old place, old troubles. How many times he sat in the exact same spot thinking he couldn’t possibly screw his life worse. Funny thing each time he was proven wrong. And how many times he remembered warm arms wrapping around his shoulder and soft voice whispering it’s going to be alright.

Fuck.

He should have known better.

Nothing lasts.

Just his mistakes. He never did any good,  no choice was truly his – that was his old excuse, now he knew he had those choices and he never was strong enough to make good one.

Once he thought he finally figured it out, that he was making finally good decisions, afterall he was trying to save hero of the wizarding world. How did it ended?

Like it always does, with scars and broken heart.

“Moon looks happy.”

With surprise Draco turned around to spot Luna Lovegood not far away walking towards him. She was strange, probably not really sane, but deep inside he was brave enough to admit he found comfort in her company.

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked out of duty, partly curiosity. It way past midnight. And no matter how shitty, he was her friend. Or at least after everything they went through he wanted to call her that.

“Speaking with you.” She answered sitting next to him with stretched out legs. Moon played gently on her hair laminating it in silver and gold.

“Couldn’t guess.” Snapped Draco. Oh god sometimes she was pissing him off with her habit of stating obvious.

“I was at home, when I felt someone miserable was looking for company. It appears it was you.” She wasn’t even mad about his remark, just well being herself – warm and oblivious to the harsh reality. She was his walking hope that there was still something innocent in the world.

“I’m not miserable!” Draco snapped, but even to his own ears it sounded weak.

“Then I guess I will look for someone else.” She made a move to get up.

“No, wait.” He murmured. He was so damn awkward when it comes to asking for anything, even company. He cought her sparkling eyes and turned away. She could read him so well.

“It’s about Harry.” He broke the silence.

“Couldn’t guess.” She stated it with complitly still face, but draco could swear she was serving him back.

“I saw him tonight. After all those years and I...” he stopped as not knowing what to tell.

“He’s doing fine.”

“Yeah, I know.” He really tried not to sound bitter, but…

“I’m not blaming you. No one is.” She put gentle hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t escape the comparission with different, stronger arms and somehow felt the cold of the night causing him to shiver.

“Weasley has different view on that.”

“He used to, but not anymore. Harry too…”

“Don’t. Let’s just not.” Draco shook away her arm as it was too much burden to hold on to.

“What you did back then, how you ended things, you did it for him.”

“I did it for myself.”

“You loved him.”

“I broke him.” And broke myself along with it. Or maybe broken was just his state from the birth.

“You chose the hardest way.” Luna said calmly not trying to convince him, just stating her thoughts. It was good. It was all too bad, hitting home time and time again.

“I gave up too soon.” Draco whispered finally letting the thought that was eating him for so long out. He screwed everything. If he only was a little stronger…

“You did something no one of us had courage to do.” She was gazing at the moon. For the first time in the very long time he heard regret in her voice. Was she pitting him or regretting it wasn’t her there that night? But it was always him in the shittiest places at the shittiest time. It was his true talent.

“Yeah, and it turned out so well.” Sarcasm couln’t escape his tone.

“You can try again.” Gryffindors. Really thinking everything would turned out fine if only they say so.

“Sure, I should just patted his arm and sing-song to his ear “Potter let’s go back to shagging like we used to cos you are now sober and I won’t put anymore knives in your back. And as a token of our everlasting love look at all those beautiful scars. Btw I almost killed you, but I didn’t really mean to. You’re welcome.”

“Draco…”

“I’m done. We’re done. There’s nothing to come back to. Goodnight.”

He Apparated at his flat and threw himself on the couch. He was too tired.

 

_“You must really hate me Harry.”_

_“I’m not. You know I love you.”_

_“No, you don’t. If you do, how could you do this to me?”_

 

 

 


	2. Walls come down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was I so bad for you? Or it was you too good for me?

 

 

 

 

 _I could never point you out_  
_Waste of space in a faceless crowd_  
_Tell me what I have to say_  
_If you know what's right then you'll walk awa_ y

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sleeping was never an easy task. At least not for Draco. During his childhood days he wanted to stay in dreams for as long as he could, so with great deal of misery he was greeting the time of waking up. All those sweet, innocent little fantasies his mind was projecting. Oh how sweet of the sentiment still lingering in him now he was getting closer to his 30th birthdays. Now in his adulthood he didn't want to dream, because when he was closing his eyes he knew what was the best fantasy, what he really wanted, what he was missing... those green eyes, black hair, and lips so full, so hungry... and in those moments he was starting to turn restlessly on his bed.

He couldn't dream of him again and again. He moved on. He got certificate for that at the end of the therapy, for God's sake. He was now officially potter-free -zone on the move to rule the world. He was better than this pathetic longing sap crying in the corner. 

Oh, fuck...

Draco gave up on trying to fall sleep. Since the last party he couldn't find any peace. His mind was too occupied with stupid smiles, green eyes and just-shagged hair. Dammit. 

He cigarette out of the pocket thoughtfully hidden in his work robes. He quit the habit along with many other things when he started therapy, but apparently it was as much of an illusion as the rest of it. 

Draco inhaled deeply. 

What can he do with Potter situation? Was there anything to do? 

Nope, he gritted his teeth. Maybe for him it was not completely over, but for Potter sure it was finished chapter. 

Was it?

Oh damn it all... 

He was such a fool still longing for something that ended long ago, while Potter was probably shagging someone else. 

At the thought he crushed the cigarette on the railing of the balcony. 

He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care... Draco repeated in his head trying to convinced himself. For all he cared Potter could shag whole London... he wouldn't care less... and if he was gulping right now it was not because Potter with all his fame and handsome face actually could manage that. 

With irritated huff Draco turned back to the bed. He sat on the floor hugging his knees.

It was unfair. Really unfair for Potter being able so easily to turn his life up side down again without even looking at him. Properly looking. It was unfair for him to break all the promises and simply forget about Draco, about them… It shouldn’t be so easy for him, when it was so hard for Draco…

If only he could turn back time… just one turn so that night in the club to never happened… Maybe then he wouldn’t be blamed for breaking Boy Who Lived, for being proved again and again that his love was poison, that he would only break and destroy things even Voldemort couldn’t…

Only if that night never happened his heart would not be missing him so much…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Lyrics for Kings of Leon Walls come down.


	3. I took the wrong road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depeche Mode is never a bad choice

 

 

 

 

 _There's something wrong with me chemically_  
_Something wrong with me inherently_  
_The wrong mix_  
_In the wrong genes_  
_I reached the wrong ends_

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

Four years earlier

 

 

Draco opened his eyes. There was no light, no sun, not even a candle.

Just place when darkness was no longer dark. Just the state between light and dark where shadows lives.

Shadows.

And thoughts.

Azkaban.

Draco took breathe out. It was hard. He thought first day was a miracle he survived, but every next day just proved him wrong.

In the small place all that was hidden here was he, his thoughts and space enough for him to stand but not enough to pace. He missed that freedom of movement. Well to be perfectly honest he missed so many things he couldn’t be able to list them.

Who was he kidding?

He already made that list. And many others. List of his misgivings, mistakes, ways to die, ways to escape, ways to forget if he would only get a chance…

Draco blinked lifelessly observing ceiling. 49 cracks. Fuck this imperfection. Like it couldn’t be a full 50, nahh it needed to shit on his sense of symmetry as well as everything else ever did.

Yeah today is the perfect day to list all the asymmetry crap he saw and destroyed.

It was kind of long.

Screw it.

Think fast before new wave of anxiety will fry your brain away.

Blue vase, brown kettle, father’s… STOP…

Fuck… just not him… anything but him…

Focus.

Just 243 days.

Don’t think about the dirt.

_Dirtdirtdirtdirtdirtdirt_

Or screams.

_Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup_

Or the fact you can’t get out.

_breathebreathebreathebreathe_

one two three four…

Or you can’t even walk.

Five six seven eight

Or they will spit on it again but you will it eat pretending it’s not you

_notmenotmenotmenotmenotme_

Nine ten eleven twelve

Or that once you get in the shower… and mirror… and there’s no you anymore

_Somebodyelsesomebodyelse_

Not my body, not my face, not my scars

They see no me, not me, I would never… not me not me…

_One two one two one two_

_Breathe breathe_

It’s okay Draco, that what she said… will she be there?

Of course she will be…

It’s okay Draco… was it a blessing or a curse? Was it love or pity? Disappointment or care?

Don’t think, don’t think

_Breathe breathe_

All you can do here

Remember

243 days

You can’t do this

You can

You can’t

It’s too much

_Breathe breathe_

Oh god… but you’re not here…

Breathe in and breathe out

It’s all their fault

Fuck another bloody lip

Dammit it all

It’s all my fault

And the tears start again…

_Fuck fuck fuck_

Like an undying river in the desert…

Screams again

Why they won’t stop screaming?

Because when they do they are no longer here…

All they do is disappear…

Like their smiling faces… like his youthful days… like he himself will disappear completely…

Draco… when was the last time you screamed?

_I’mlostI’mlostI’mlost_

 

And then one day he came. With bright green eyes and broken smile. Full of energy and full of youth. Somehow he wasn’t screaming which in this shithole was something extraordinary. No, no screaming, no spitting, just staring.

“Let’s go home.” That’s all he said. No pretense, no irony, no joke.

And there it was, deep in his eyes that mirror with the same crack.

Draco nodded slowly raising to his feet and then started to laugh. He needed to give to Potter for not locking him in St. Mungo or punching him in the face. Therefore Draco knew, that Potter saw that too. After all one broken soul can easily spot other.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _I was born with the wrong sign_  
_In the wrong house_  
_With the wrong ascendancy_  
_I took the wrong road_  
_That led to_  
_The wrong tendencies_  
_I was in the wrong place_  
_At the wrong time_  
_For the wrong reason_  
_And the wrong rhyme_  
_On the wrong day_  
_Of the wrong week_  
_Used the wrong method_  
_With the wrong technique_  
_Wrong_  
_Wrong_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and staying with the story.  
> It would be lovely to get some feedback.  
> xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> I'm looking for beta.  
> Show your support - it means a lot.


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